Hard Habit To Break
by Mickey Sixx
Summary: This is Caleb’s perfect release, even if he doesn’t know it yet. SLASH. CalebChase. CalebTyler.


**Title:** Hard Habit To Break**  
Author:** Mickey Stone**  
Disclaimer:** Not mine, no matter how many times I wish for them to be. **  
Rating:** NC-17**  
Warnings:** Torture, kink, dark!fic (I think)**  
Characters/Pairings:** Chase/Caleb, Caleb/Tyler**  
Written For:** greasers LJ**  
Prompt Used:** Er...see notes. **  
Summary:** This is Caleb's perfect release, even if he doesn't know it yet. Written for greasers LJ for the covenantslash's Fanfic Exchange.

Notes:

It was the slow _drip...drip...drip_ of water against his skin that brought him back from unconsciousness. The ground was cold and hard beneath him, making him aware of his shirtless state; the water hitting his bare shoulder and running down to find the ground. Caleb groaned and opened his sticky eyes slowly. It was dark. As his eyes adjusted, he could just make out a flicker of a shadow against the wall opposite, probably from a candle behind him, but his location was any one's guess. All he knew was he was lying face down, only partially clothed, and his arms were too heavy to move.

A frown wrinkled his forehead. No, not heavy. Caleb moved again and a tinny _clink-clink_ noise followed.

Chained.

His heart-rate picked up and his eyes widened in panic. This wasn't right. He struggled again; wrists cuffed behind him.

"Welcome back."

The struggles stopped. An icy chill slid down his spine and froze his blood, stopping his heart. He knew that voice. There was a low, dirty chuckle and the sound of footsteps moving closer, but Caleb could do little else but breathe shallowly through his nose.

"Surprise."

Chase.

"But...but you're-"

"Dead?" The footsteps stopped beside him, but stayed out of sight, "Not quite."

Caleb's eyes closed briefly and he swallowed, "I...I don't understand. Where am I?"

The dark chuckle returned and Caleb could hear the rustle of cloth as he crouched down, "Oh Caleb," Freezing cold fingers touched the skin of his back and Caleb flinched away quickly, "When are you going to stop asking stupid questions?"

Before he could answer, the cold hand wrapped around his bound wrists and yanked backwards, pulling his body up from the hard ground, keeping him on his knees. There was a sharp click and Caleb flinched hard as the flames on a thousand candles flared and illuminated the room. Fingers pushed through his hair, rolling his head about forcefully and he winced.

"Oh, we're going to have so much fun Caleb, I can feel it."

Dread settled in his stomach at the words. Forcing his eyes open, he watched as the other man stepped around him and walked away, his footsteps echoing around the...room, he supposed. It looked like a larger version of the Coven Room under Gorman's house; carved out of the rock in the earth and the light only provided by the many candles surrounding them. Some of them were just on the natural ledges made in the rock, others were held in wrought iron candelabras that seemed to make a large circle around him.

"What do you want, Chase?" He asked, raising his voice to carry over to the other man.

A laugh echoed back and he turned on his heel to finally face Caleb. He looked no different than before the fight; no burns or scars. Just clean, unmarked skin. The shirt, pants and suit he was wearing matched his eyes; black as midnight. Caleb swallowed, his own eyes dropping to what Chase held in his hands, staring at the coiled length of leather as he came closer.

"It's not what _I_ want, Caleb." Chase said, voice thick and cloying. A smirk stretched his face, "It's what _you_ want."

Caleb started to panic. He tried to Use, but when he called on the Power nothing happened. He tried again, this time aiming for Chase and trying to push him away, but still nothing. The older male laughed again, stepping close and running a hand down the side of his face, Caleb quickly flinching away.

"Your Powers won't work unless you really want to leave," Chase slowly crouched down, his face inches from Caleb's. "And you don't want to leave yet."

His shiver was an automatic reaction and he tried to move his head further away from Chase's invading presence, "Yes I do."

"We'll see."

Then he was gone. Caleb breathed again, eyes closing briefly as he tried to compose himself. Alarm bells were going off in his head and his heart was all but beating out of his chest. This wasn't right. He shouldn't be here. He needed to get out; _now_. When he opened his eyes again, he tried to concentrate and call out for someone. _Pogue? Ty? Reid? Anyone? I need help, guys, please-_

The first bite of the whip made him scream, eyes suddenly wide and breath coming in short pants. His mind reeled, but he didn't even have time to get over the shock before the leather cut into his back once more, another sharp grunt pulled from him. Another hit, and another and another, each one laying into his back and making his skin burn. Caleb jerked with each strike, the painful fire scorching through his body. Chase's evil laugh carried over the wet crack of each hit and Caleb had no choice but to bend under the assault, leaning forwards to keep his balance.

The whipping stopped, but Caleb could still feel the phantom pains throbbing along his back. He wasn't given any time to adjust before icy cold fingers ran gently over the torn, burning skin. Caleb shivered and whimpered at the contrasting sensations, confused and hurt and-

Caleb screwed his eyes shut tight. No, no he wasn't that. He _wasn't_. That was sick and so utterly wrong. Gentle patterns were traced on hot flesh; he could feel soft puffs of air fanning across his neck as his body was straightened out. Hands stroked along his sides and around to his stomach, fingers dipping under his bellybutton before moving further down and sliding over his clothed groin to cup his erection. He shuddered and gasped softly, shame colouring his cheeks as he bent his head forward.

"Oh baby, what have we here?" Chase cooed, massaging his hardness gently. Caleb couldn't stop the tiny jerking motions his hips made, trying to find more friction. He felt sick.

"Chase...please..." he forced out.

"Please what?" Answered the cruel voice, his palm rubbing the impression of his cock in a circular motion, "Are you begging for more or asking me to stop? You need to be more specific, lover..."

"Please stop..."

Icy cold lips drifted along his right shoulder and up to his ear, "No."

Caleb shuddered, unable to stop the hand as it slowly unfastened his pants and pulled out his cock. He felt so helpless, but at the same time so painfully aroused that he felt nauseous. This was so wrong. He shouldn't be letting him do this; he should be fighting back, cursing him, doing anything to push him away. But some part of Caleb _wanted_ this. He ached for it, _yearned_ to let someone control him for once instead of him always being in control.

The eldest Son of Ipswich moaned softly when the hand curled around his erection and started stroking firmly. A soft, filthy chuckle floated into his ear and the hand alternated speeds and grips. He was enjoying this, the bastard.

"Ch-Chase..."

"See, this is an interesting turn of events, Caleb." Chase muttered into his ear while he stroked, "So ready to give it up to me..."

The sound of chains rattling softly carried over the sound of Caleb's labored breathing. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He started thrusting into Chase's hand, wanting, needing more.

"This is why you don't want to leave," he carried on, thumb sweeping the head and smearing through the pre-come, "This is why you'll always keep coming back to me. Because you need this, Caleb; you need someone to take away your freedom and control you."

White hot needles speared through his skin, tearing a strangled cry from his throat. Chase snorted, nipping sharply at his shoulder.

"The pain is an added bonus for me."

He couldn't do anything but feel and respond as wave after wave of pain shot through his body. He shuddered and moaned and cried out under the assault, the hand on his cock speeding up and slowing down at Chase's will. Caleb span out of control, so hard that it hurt. He jerked, hands clenching and releasing on nothing behind his back, unable to find something to hold on to. Oh god, he was so close, just a little more, please just a little more.

"Come on, Caleb," Chase hissed, "Come for me..."

The Power shot through his body once more and Caleb screamed under the sensation of another whipping, hips bucking hard as he shot stream after stream of come up into Chase's hand, chanting Chase's name over and over again while the older male whispered dirty words and filthy curses in his ear.

--

The bed rocked with the sheer force of Caleb's movement. Eyes sprang open and he bolted upright, panting like he'd just run ten miles. His heartbeat thudded loudly in his ears, his breathing ragged and harsh. The feeling of disorientation lasted a few seconds and then the room finally came into focus. The walls were flat and painted, and the shelves were all made of wood, not rock. The only light in the room came from the window; the moonlight finding the crack in the curtains and illuminating the far corner of the room.

"Ca'eb?"

He glanced quickly to the other side the bed where the lump that was Tyler shifted sleepily under the covers.

"You 'k?"

Caleb swallowed. His breathing was returning to normal, sure, but was he ok? He could still feel the whip biting into his skin, hear Chase's maniacal laughter as he shuddered under the blows, feel his body heat as he stroked him to completion.

"Yeah," he lied, taken aback by the sound of his own voice. It was like he'd been screaming... "Yeah, I'm ok baby boy. Go back to sleep."

The youngest snuffled, shifted and settled without another word. Caleb ran a hand over his face, wiping away the sweat before he slid out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. The sticky boxers were discarded quickly, kicked across the floor without a thought. The glaring brightness of the overhead light made him wince and screw his eyes shut against the invasion, but he forced himself further into the room, bare feet on the cold tile.

The water was refreshingly cold against his heated skin, stray water droplets sliding down his neck and chest unchecked. With a hand on either side of the sink, he leaned heavily on his arms and closed his eyes, his breathing and the sounds of the water falling from his chin back into the basin filling the room. This was becoming a habit. One he'd never been quite able to break.

One that he wasn't sure he even _wanted_ to break.

He took a deep breath and stood straight again, reaching for the towel. As his fingers grasped the blue cloth and pulled it from the hook, his eyes were caught by the sight in the bathroom mirror. Caleb froze, the towel halfway to his face, staring with wide eyes at his reflection in the mirror. Angry red welts and shallow cuts criss-crossed his back, blood oozing slowly down his skin from a long, deep cut across his left shoulder blade. His skin burned; he was sure if he reached around he'd feel the heat before he even touched his flesh. Caleb shuddered hard as the memory flooded back to him.

Then he blinked.

It took Caleb a few seconds to realise that the wounds and the lacerations he'd been staring at were gone. He turned and craned his head back. The mirror only showed him clean and unmarked flesh.

He sighed and finished drying up, replacing the towel and looking at himself in the mirror again. He took in his disheveled appearance and the dark circles under his eyes.

"No more."

The words were a defeated promise. With one last look he turned and left the bathroom, shutting off the light on the way and going back to bed.

A low, evil chuckle echoed around the silent bathroom.

"_You'll be back. You'll always come back._"


End file.
